


Bargains

by entanglednow



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Consent Issues, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-05-07
Updated: 2008-05-07
Packaged: 2017-10-31 07:24:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/341477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Tell me that you want my help, mine, now that there's no one else. No one else who can do what I do."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bargains

It was early enough to still be cold, the air was full of frost, which clung to the bricks and caught in Mohinder's throat on every inhale. The streets were almost deserted, cold and soundless, traffic too sparse to stay, it passed in flares of sound and warm air. He felt vulnerable here, he felt isolated in the empty space, waiting in the frigid morning air, waiting for the devil.

But Sylar was already here, and though he would seem impossible to miss he was stood static against the side of a building, a tower of dark clothing more suited to the cold than Mohinder's. His hair was longer, long enough to hang as low as his eyes, and he simply watched while Mohinder walked towards him, watched and breathed plumes of warm air. Mohinder's chest felt like it was full of stones. But he forced himself to keep walking.

"I didn't think you'd come," Mohinder said honestly.

"I already know why you called me," Sylar said without raising his head. "You've realised the world is full of monsters, and I'm the only one you know."

"Then I don't have to say anything, you know what I'm going to ask." Sylar smiled and on anyone else it would be easy, it would be friendly. Sylar made it look like a threat. Mohinder knew that he'd get nothing unless he played Sylar's game, unless he stepped all the way inside, and let Sylar make all the rules. And as soon as he did that Sylar would win. It was exactly what he'd been fighting against for more than a year.

Mohinder took one more step until he was close, far too close.

Sylar said nothing, just watched him, wrapped in that dark coat, waiting for him to ask, waiting for him to make the last step.

"You know what's happening," Mohinder said flatly. Because he didn't want to draw this out, he didn't want to play. But he watched Sylar carefully raise an eyebrow and knew that there was really no other way this would go.

"I know your people are being torn to pieces."

"Will you -"

Sylar took one quick step, until they were close enough that the air between them was warm and heavy, close enough that one flare of anger would draw them into touch.

"No, I want to hear it," Sylar said simply, eyes never moving from Mohinder's. "Tell me you need me," he added against the edge of Mohinder's jaw, breath pushing at the hair laid across his cheek. "Tell me that you want my help, mine, now that there's no one else. No one else who can do what I do."

Mohinder swallowed, mouth was too dry. But they _did_ need him, they needed him badly. Because Peter was nowhere to be found, and the thing that was stalking the streets didn't want abilities, or power, it just wanted to tear things into pieces, and for all that he'd done Sylar was their best chance. Perhaps their only chance.

He was the devil they knew.

"We need you," he said softly.

"No," Sylar said roughly and there were teeth in the word, more than teeth in the long twitch of his head that suggested a restraint Mohinder couldn't feel. "Tell me _you_ need me."

Which was something different altogether, something darker and more complicated. Something that was honest in ways Mohinder could untangle if he wanted to, but he didn't want to. And he wasn't sure that he could give Sylar what he wanted.

They stood in silence for a long moment, before Sylar carefully pushed his hands back into his pockets, took a half step back.

"I need you." Mohinder's voice didn't break, but he thought it should, thought it should sound like it hurt to ask for that much, it should sound like the words had been dragged all the way out of him. Sylar inhaled, the rough side of his face swaying close enough that Mohinder could feel the heat coming off his skin.

"Say it again." It wasn't a request, it was quiet and hard, something that sounded strangely like relief.

"I need you." Mohinder's voice was barely audible that time, but Sylar still made a soft noise, hands sliding out of his coat pockets. He caught hold of Mohinder's wrists, and his own hands were almost unnaturally warm. Mohinder flinched but didn't pull away, didn't try and free himself.

"Please," Mohinder said roughly and instantly hated himself for it. Sylar's exhale was sudden and smooth, like Mohinder had given him something he wanted, but never expected to get.

Sylar's mouth drifted closer, lips trailing the edge of his jaw and it was a startling moment of clarity that made Mohinder turn his face away.

"No!"

There was a long frozen moment.

"You're asking for my help, my blood, possibly my life," Sylar said in soft pointed tones. "I think I deserve more than 'please.'"

"You don't deserve anything."

"You used to be so polite Mohinder."

Mohinder didn't move from his spot, didn't walk away, though he desperately wanted to. He could see the way this was going, and he honestly didn't know how to stop it.

Sylar didn't say anything, he just watched him from beneath dark eyebrows.

"I don't -"

"I know you don't," Sylar said quietly.

Mohinder stiffened when Sylar touched his hair. There was a smile, as if the movement had amused him. When he leaned in a second time Mohinder didn't stop him. Sylar's hands folded round either side of his face and tilted it up.

He moved just close enough to touch, a careful press of mouth that seemed almost amused. As if Sylar were daring him to pull away. When he refused to give him that Sylar's mouth slid into a smile, then became more than a shade rougher. Fingertips moved into his hair, tangling through the strands until pulling away became an impossibility. Then it wasn't just a kiss, it was drowning, Sylar had both hands in his hair, huge and inescapable, mouth pushing his own open until Mohinder could taste him.

But just as suddenly as it started it was finished, there was a press of rough cheek against his own, and then a smooth voice which curled into the shell of his ear.

"You already know my price, you knew it before you came," Sylar said simply. He smiled against Mohinder's cheek and then drew back.

"Say yes and I'll help you, " he said softly, voice calm, as if what he was asking for wasn't scandalous. "Say yes."

Mohinder said nothing at all.

Sylar released his hands in one movement and it was instantly colder. One retreat and he knew Sylar would leave, would simply vanish into the night, taking their chance of survival with him.

"Yes," Mohinder said simply.

The world didn't end, and Sylar was neither laughing nor triumphant he just watched, careful and intent.

"Yes," he said again, because the long moment of nothing forced it out of him, just for something to say.

"Don't look as though it's the end of the world, Mohinder. And remember that if I die, you don't have to pay." It was like a slap in the face but Sylar just looked amused, dark eyes both less and more intense than Mohinder remembered.

Then Sylar let him go completely, slide his hands back into his pockets and stepped back. He turned without another word, walked unhurried back the way he'd come.

Mohinder watched him until he turned the corner, leaving him alone on the cold street.


End file.
